I try to start a simple little story and before I can get a full paragraph on the page there are two or three other little stories that should be supporting parts of the same whole. John Muir was right; grab onto anything at all and you find it is connected to everything in the universe. Everything is interconnected and that is a great introduction to almost every story.
I am not good with technology. I did alright with the stick shift and knowing how tight was tight enough on the end of a wrench but I still get batteries in backwards. For music in 5th & 6th grade we played recorders. Blow in the little end, cover the finger holes and make a note. Move you fingers and music comes out. I was taking Horn lessons the summer between 6th and 7th at the Jr. High, set up for band class in the fall. But on Labor Day weekend on a Boy Scout swimming excursion I was in a car crash, face into the dashboard, broken teeth and stitches to close the gash in my lip. After a month it was understood that I would not be in band that year. Even when the lip healed the mouthpiece fit right over the scar and my buzz didn’t work, and it hurt.
I wasn't making music but I did learn how to operate the radio and record player. Sometimes I would mouth the words to Tutti Frutti along with Little Richard “Tootie frutti, oh rootie, Wop bop a loo bop a loop bam boom.” By the time I got in the Army I was listening to jazz; The Don Shirley Trio, Cannonball Adderley, Dave Brubeck and Roy Orbison on the side; not jazz but still cool. Come the late 1960’s I was too busy to be doing music and I got away from it. Then in the late 70’s I had been keeping a journal, writing, Story, imagine that. The Sturgis, MI radio station had a two hour, all music format on Saturday evening. I was in the car and a song came on that I couldn't, not listen to, it spoke directly to me; “Take it easy, take it easy, don’t let the sound of your own wheels drive you crazy.” I was hooked on those lyrics, a story put to music. Then I stumbled across Kris Kristofferson, then Willie Nelson, Linda Ronstadt, Bob Dylan: I discovered them along with a second generation that was too young to get it the first time around. I was a generation late but discovery; it is what it is. Their stories are timeless and put to music, easy to memorize. I listen to a lot of music, have been for lots of years, know a lot of songs.
I got my first cell phone in the 90’s and it was obsolete before I got my new number memorized. Leap forward to the smart phone. I am the stereotype geezer who gets tech support from his grandkids. I did that a couple of weeks ago. Last year we uploaded about four hours of music from my I Tunes library in my computer onto my smart phone. I walked for exercise on a bike path and hung my I-Phone in a pouch around my neck, listening to music as I walked. It was so cool; made the time pass, almost like therapy.
So far this year I’ve been going to the gym instead of walking the bike path. I’m always near a bathroom, no bad weather to contend with and I transition from walking laps to the weight room effortlessly. So now I get both the cardiovascular walk and strength repetitions but I don’t feel right about my music. Others may not want to hear my tunes. Lot of gym folks wear earbuds or head sets and I presume they are listening to their own, whatever they listen to.
This last weekend I got my own headset. The smart sales guy (Geek) assured me it was easy, just follow printed instructions when I got home. In a respectful way I told him, “No, you are the genius, I am the customer and I don’t follow printed instructions. When ever I have a question the pamphlet just ignores me. Before I leave here you will have paired the phone with the headset and answered my questions; any questions?” After that we got along great. He was a little embarrassed when he had difficulty getting the volume to balance sound evenly between the left and right ear. He was a nice guy but after a half hour and more head scratching than he was accustomed to, he was happy to see me go.
I had known for some time I would be doing this so I leaned on my Granddaughter again to help me upload another playlist onto my device; device, listen to me, makes me sound tech-savvy. She helped me last year and we lifted about 4 hours of my favorites off the computer, onto my I-Phone. It worked so well outside on the bike path I wanted another, new play list go go along with what I had in the phone. She is a really, really great kid. I know! Grandparents think their progeny are great without cause but I have cause. When we finished with the music I thanked her and offered her safe passage but she was in no hurry to go. She is off to college in August and our conversation was incredibly spontaneous and candid. With over three decades in classrooms I can spot fake enthusiasm and sucking up and (cause) she was right where she wanted to be or she wouldn’t have been there. When she drove away I felt special and that doesn’t happen often.
Today it only took a few minutes before I left the house to remember, rediscover which buttons did what and their sequence; I had music again. At the gyn I rechecked my settings again and discovered that when we uploaded the new playlist we had inadvertently transferred the whole library into the I-Phone; that is over 4,000 songs and I can set the selection mode on ‘Random’. So now I have a 4,000 + playlist and it was, it is awesome. I was reacquainted with some favorites I had almost forgotten about. One song would go into its fade at the end and my curiosity would peak. The anticipation was making my walk so interesting. One in particular, I listened to the lead in and I knew it was someone special. On the first word I knew that I knew but it took a few words for my brain cells to get serious. I was unfamiliar with the song itself but there is only one Natalie Merchant. When she sings a song, any song, she owns it. I didn't speed up or hesitate and I kept track of where I was on the track but I listened hard, didn’t want it to end. Good Story.
I am not good with technology. I did alright with the stick shift and knowing how tight was tight enough on the end of a wrench but I still get batteries in backwards. For music in 5th & 6th grade we played recorders. Blow in the little end, cover the finger holes and make a note. Move you fingers and music comes out. I was taking Horn lessons the summer between 6th and 7th at the Jr. High, set up for band class in the fall. But on Labor Day weekend on a Boy Scout swimming excursion I was in a car crash, face into the dashboard, broken teeth and stitches to close the gash in my lip. After a month it was understood that I would not be in band that year. Even when the lip healed the mouthpiece fit right over the scar and my buzz didn’t work, and it hurt.
I wasn't making music but I did learn how to operate the radio and record player. Sometimes I would mouth the words to Tutti Frutti along with Little Richard “Tootie frutti, oh rootie, Wop bop a loo bop a loop bam boom.” By the time I got in the Army I was listening to jazz; The Don Shirley Trio, Cannonball Adderley, Dave Brubeck and Roy Orbison on the side; not jazz but still cool. Come the late 1960’s I was too busy to be doing music and I got away from it. Then in the late 70’s I had been keeping a journal, writing, Story, imagine that. The Sturgis, MI radio station had a two hour, all music format on Saturday evening. I was in the car and a song came on that I couldn't, not listen to, it spoke directly to me; “Take it easy, take it easy, don’t let the sound of your own wheels drive you crazy.” I was hooked on those lyrics, a story put to music. Then I stumbled across Kris Kristofferson, then Willie Nelson, Linda Ronstadt, Bob Dylan: I discovered them along with a second generation that was too young to get it the first time around. I was a generation late but discovery; it is what it is. Their stories are timeless and put to music, easy to memorize. I listen to a lot of music, have been for lots of years, know a lot of songs.
I got my first cell phone in the 90’s and it was obsolete before I got my new number memorized. Leap forward to the smart phone. I am the stereotype geezer who gets tech support from his grandkids. I did that a couple of weeks ago. Last year we uploaded about four hours of music from my I Tunes library in my computer onto my smart phone. I walked for exercise on a bike path and hung my I-Phone in a pouch around my neck, listening to music as I walked. It was so cool; made the time pass, almost like therapy.
So far this year I’ve been going to the gym instead of walking the bike path. I’m always near a bathroom, no bad weather to contend with and I transition from walking laps to the weight room effortlessly. So now I get both the cardiovascular walk and strength repetitions but I don’t feel right about my music. Others may not want to hear my tunes. Lot of gym folks wear earbuds or head sets and I presume they are listening to their own, whatever they listen to.
This last weekend I got my own headset. The smart sales guy (Geek) assured me it was easy, just follow printed instructions when I got home. In a respectful way I told him, “No, you are the genius, I am the customer and I don’t follow printed instructions. When ever I have a question the pamphlet just ignores me. Before I leave here you will have paired the phone with the headset and answered my questions; any questions?” After that we got along great. He was a little embarrassed when he had difficulty getting the volume to balance sound evenly between the left and right ear. He was a nice guy but after a half hour and more head scratching than he was accustomed to, he was happy to see me go.
I had known for some time I would be doing this so I leaned on my Granddaughter again to help me upload another playlist onto my device; device, listen to me, makes me sound tech-savvy. She helped me last year and we lifted about 4 hours of my favorites off the computer, onto my I-Phone. It worked so well outside on the bike path I wanted another, new play list go go along with what I had in the phone. She is a really, really great kid. I know! Grandparents think their progeny are great without cause but I have cause. When we finished with the music I thanked her and offered her safe passage but she was in no hurry to go. She is off to college in August and our conversation was incredibly spontaneous and candid. With over three decades in classrooms I can spot fake enthusiasm and sucking up and (cause) she was right where she wanted to be or she wouldn’t have been there. When she drove away I felt special and that doesn’t happen often.
Today it only took a few minutes before I left the house to remember, rediscover which buttons did what and their sequence; I had music again. At the gyn I rechecked my settings again and discovered that when we uploaded the new playlist we had inadvertently transferred the whole library into the I-Phone; that is over 4,000 songs and I can set the selection mode on ‘Random’. So now I have a 4,000 + playlist and it was, it is awesome. I was reacquainted with some favorites I had almost forgotten about. One song would go into its fade at the end and my curiosity would peak. The anticipation was making my walk so interesting. One in particular, I listened to the lead in and I knew it was someone special. On the first word I knew that I knew but it took a few words for my brain cells to get serious. I was unfamiliar with the song itself but there is only one Natalie Merchant. When she sings a song, any song, she owns it. I didn't speed up or hesitate and I kept track of where I was on the track but I listened hard, didn’t want it to end. Good Story.
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